Damsels and Sirs,
"No, if you aren't feeling well you should go to the sanatorium."
"No, teacher, Sir am okay let me do the exam..."
"Just go to the sanitarium please, you can be exuded from the paper."
"Am fine teacher, please let me just finish the paper..."
And he was sweating. He was shaking all over. Ever seen how shaky rained on chicken are? no even I haven't seen one, but I know you can imagine how it looks, wet all over with water. He must have looked like that, sweating like a rained on chicken, wet like the same, and he was determined to finish the exam like a rained on chicken is determined to run. Before...
"the paper will be here, no one will touch it..."
To see that teacher beg that much was thrilling. Laughable even, students would have most definitely had fun immetating the snake of a teacher looking all like a deer, or rather bunny all kind and shit for the sweating quiet shaking student doing his exam.
"just stand up go see the school nurse then come back and finish..."
You know, you should never give up when you know what's at stake. He knew what standing up and leaving meant.
Let's just say he stood up!
Slap!
Yes, a book fell from his lap. He had been cheating, that's why he was scared stiff, all sweaty and all. He knew what would happen if he was caught. That's why he was all frightened. But why the hell did he give up? Why did he stand up knowing that book would fall?
Slap! Slap!
He was pushed back to the seat. And it wasn't smooth afterwards...
So lesson learnt here is. Never give up. If you have a book on your lap, and you know that standing up will get you in trouble. Sweat, shake, cry do whatever but seated. Don't give up and give in to what would hurt you. I am seated on this blog. I am seated writing.
Talking about exams, horrible topic I know... They are trying to test us. Those bustards, but have you ever noticed how everyone is so noisy after an exam. All hyped up and energetic. Wikipedia says...don't judge my reading habits, i love to read, so as Wikipedia says, happiness comes from like four things... Things you just love like a hot long shower and orgasms. (okay that last part I added but it's true) it also comes from belonging to something, think family, think friends, think G-Unit, maintaining relationships... Not like G-Unit (still making up stuff but it's true) it also comes from achieving stuff. (think how you feel when you want to make CEO and you make it out of your own effort or whatever)
So generally what Proff. Wikipedia. (if you reading this and you actually think this is a real professor please live, Sirs and Damsels, c they should leave? Agreed? Oh, what's that... A land slide vote... Out.
Proff. says that their are some things that will just make you happy, like a Private Jet, nice food. Apparently maintaining relationships will also make you happy, yes, don't hold back, visit Java with friends, it's good for you. After this post call mummy. Yes, really. You want to be happy! What else, remind me, what else did Wikipedia say? Umh. Good music? Yes... But no! Oh I have remembered, achieving, as in if you set out to do something and do it you will be happy. So Bobby, what you are saying is that if I had a toDo list and I achieved everything in it by the end of the dayi will be happy? Yes. Bobby says yes. I hope Wikipedia agrees, but let's be sincere. Who will go checking up that on wiki? If I started talking about everything that makes us happy, you could as well grab a blanket, it will reach a point when you will be too tired to pretend you listening.
We are happy when we are out of the exam room cause we test ourselves, we force ourselves to think, explore our limits. That's what writing does. Yes, it tests my limits. And the rewards are instant. A good post, spread it on twira. And right there is a retweet. No, I don't stick around twira for long. I go there at around 4pm, cause all funny people on twira show up at around 4, 5. Retweet what they are saying to my followers, yes, if you followed me you would know. And No, today am not giving out my twira user name. Cause some bugger who read my blog posted a lot of nonsense yesterday on my wall.
"Live simply, you have less than a day to live." yes, that's what the burger wrote. What do you think that was about! Faceless bustard. No real pics. Yes I blocked him, what do you think his deal was? But no am sitted like the cheating student (cheating in exam is bad though), am sitted on my writing. I know what will happen if I stood up. My book will fall. Slap! Slap!
I don't write on a stage, or infront of a crowd. No, so don't imagine me on stage like a musician pouring my heart like Drake does. If you want me to be on a stage, imagine me on a black board. My first line... Dames and Sirs...
Not a turn on. Right? If I was a musician on stage, then damsels would sing my words cause they know them by heart... And I would be screaming at them, fascinated at them more than they are by me. No, seriously, imagine Drake or Asa going to the stage with a camera to take fans photos. So flashes are on him and on the fans. Love right. That's how I would be. Good thing am not a musician, I write. And when you write, your fans are a little different. You don't meet them after a performance. You meet them on tweeter. And every time you see a retweet to you link you smile. I take a photo. Yes, am not on tweeter but my BB is very attentive. Every time my link is retweet. It send me an email. And when I find the email. I follow them. No wonder I follow many, I get retweeted often. I told you I love my fans more than they love me. So, don't be surprised to see me with a camera... Take a photo of me, I take a photo of you.
By the way, Lasses and Dudes, I was asleep. And as I told you, my BB is always awake. Yet another friend request. Have you checked out my Fan Book page. My Facebook profile is there. So this hot girl in a hat and all showed up wanting to be my friend. And you know what, men don't reject friend request from hot girls, and if you doing worse, you accept from anyone. Yes, even faceless request or ones with a goat. Like it is Facebook for Farmers and their livestock. Men, don't reject friend requests often, this hot girl sent me a request... My profile photo is bogus, no you can't call it that, only I can call it that, "Bobby, it's actually nice. You look hot." no really, it's bogus, I have high expectations for myself.
'I crossed my fingers for this.' that was her first message to me. Yes, I accepted her request. And that turned me on. Oh yes, my ego is in the clouds. They say man has not been to the moon or to the skies. Those photos were photo shopped? Guess what... My ego was on the bloody moon. Yes, Bobby has been to the moon. In fact that's the title to this post. No? Yes! I inboxed her good night, and you know what Sirs, if I texted her a few compliments. No, really, Bobby using words to charm her, she would ask Wikipedia to include me as a source of happiness. I wouldn't say much, cause I might ruin my swag. My writing speaks for me, the blog and all. We would met, she would know how Bobby shags, and then we can be friends afterwards. I can tell her things, and you know sometimes a girl opens her legs until you open your mouth. Blog speak for me.
I accepted that one, I rejected the next. As in, this is a bloody ferry tale damsels and sirs. Am not used to all these notifications. No am not. I know Friend Request from hot women, but 'I crossed my fingers for this...' is on another level. Oh, Bobby has been to the moon. Yes, Bobby out his Profile right there on his Fan Page just to Flittered himself. Accept this, accept that at the flip of a coin. Before you hate... I get depressed.
Did I tell you this is a farry tale. Do you think ferry tales are real? No. Now imagine living in a ferry tale, a place where you talk and people listen, and they tell others about you. "Bobby, I love your blog you are so real." "emails... Bobby can I be a guest writer." "Bobby where do you find inspiration." ... No I can't write all of them here, that's like writing down all the sources of my happiness. It could get long. Too long it hurts. Yes, not that I mean the post. Should I call it 'Not too long it hurts'. "Bobby, if I was you I wouldn't stop writing, at least you have a form of release..." "Bobby, I will take care of you..." but "Bobby, marry me!" that killed it.
Did I tell you this is a fairy tale? Do you think fairy tales are real? Now I understand why everyone on E! Or on the cover of a magazine is up on drugs. Cause it's a fairy tale. "Bobby, I love your blog!" "Bobby I want more..." and you no what? A musician works before they get on stage, long hours, and for a moment, for a night, you are in front of a crowd performing. For a split second compared to the work you do. You sign autographs, everyone want more and more... And lights and cameras flash. Then in the morning everyone goes home. And you are left with your iPad to write another song. Did I tell you it's like a fairy tale? Do you think fairy tales are real? The compliments come for a split second. It's overwhelming. And yes, am a guy and I shouldn't admit this but it feels nice, total fairy tale. Magic. For a split second, and how long does a split second last. A split second. And there you are wondering? Was it a dream... Having everyone want more and more of you... The happiness you get for that split second is too much, it's the moon the stars and...
Am tired am not editing this. I want to move on to the next one.
Regardless, I know what I want. I will not stand up, cause I know what's at stake. If I stood up, the book will fall. Slap! Slap!
